


Heartsease

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Snarry-A-Thon16, Sneakiness, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a rule, detentions are not life-changing experiences. Harry Potter, of course, does not live by the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartsease

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and settings belong to JK Rowling and various publishers. The silliness and smut are all mine.

Severus Snape had always thought detentions a rather good idea. If one went about making them as unpleasant as possible to the student in question, they were an excellent way to avoid further detentions. This worked with most students, as some simply never learned. Of course, they had a substantial drawback as well – they were as disagreeable an experience for the teacher supervising them as for the student, entailing the need to spend additional time with the miscreant. There was this to be said for them, however: no student had ever managed to bring about a lasting change in Snape’s life by way of a mere detention. That was until _that certain day_.

It was Potter, of course. As usual, he had been positively asking for a detention: with constant disruptions, lack of attention, and whispering and muttering with his friends while he was supposed to be preparing a potion. His potion had, naturally, ended up being a disgusting, lumpy, puce coloured sludge which more closely resembled one of Mrs Norris’ meals than the soft blue cough potion it was meant to be.

"Detention, Potter. You'll be brewing that potion properly. Seven pm tonight."

"Yes, sir," the boy had grumbled.

That was how it had started. Perhaps Severus should have chosen a different day to work on his experimental improvement of Veritaserum, or perhaps he should have kept a greater distance between Potter’s chopping board and his own cauldron. At the time, half a room had seemed sufficient.

It didn’t start well. Potter was late for his detention, earning himself an hour’s extension right away. Due to his lateness, Snape had lost valuable time on getting his own project started and was in something of a rush from the outset.

"I don’t wish to have you here all night, Potter. How much longer are you going to contemplate that heartsease before you’ll start chopping it?"

Potter glared at him. "I’m trying to figure out how to chop it into pieces no longer than a quarter inch, when the flowers are much longer than that. You told us the other day that when flowers are used in potions, they’re almost always used whole." He looked smug that he had actually remembered something from a lesson.

Snape rolled his eyes. "If you bothered reading the instructions properly, you would see that you’re supposed to use only the stems and leaves."

"Oh." Potter glanced at the notes, flushed, and then lowered his eyes and began to chop, keeping the flower heads to one side.

Snape sneered and went back to his own preparations, muttering something unflattering under his breath. A few minutes later, he was interrupted by a chuckle. He looked up in shock. Students did not chuckle during his detentions!

"Potter, why are you cackling like a loon instead of brewing?" he growled.

Potter grinned idiotically from ear to ear. "I was just reading about heartsease and all the other names by which it’s known: three faces in a hood, love-in-idleness, Jack-jump-up-and-kiss-me, tickle-my-fancy, come-and-cuddle-me—"

Snape stopped him right there. "I am well aware of its colourful synonyms, Potter. Get back to your work. You can read all about it for your entertainment in your own time."

"This is kind of my own time, sir," Potter pointed out insolently.

"Potter, get back to work this instant!"

"Yes, sir, sorry," Potter said, sounding far from sorry and instead rather pleased about having managed to raise Snape’s hackles.

This, in turn, annoyed Snape even more, and it took him several minutes to regain his concentration. At which point he realised - he had neglected to bring two of the ingredients from his main store room. Unforgiveable for a potions master! He, if anyone, knew full well that every single ingredient had to be at hand and prepared to prevent a flawed end result. He blamed Potter entirely for his lapse. He contemplated sending him to fetch the ingredients, but thought better of it; he would likely return with the wrong items and delay him further.

"I need to leave for a few minutes," he said. "Try not to blow up my classroom during my absence, Potter."

Potter mumbled something about not being Finnegan, but he nodded.

* * *

Breathing a sigh of relief when the door closed behind Snape, Harry sat back on the stool he hadn’t dared use thus far, as he would no doubt have been accused of lazing about. He figured he had a moment before he had to attend to the potion again, so he picked up his potions book and continued reading about heartsease. It was more interesting than staring into a swirling cauldron, anyway.

_In the language of flowers, heartsease (later known as pansy, in its cultivated form) stands for thoughts, which inspired wizard author William Shakespeare to give Hamlet’s Ophelia one of her most famous lines, "There’s pansies, that’s for thoughts."_

Potter looked up towards the teacher’s desk. He wondered what Snape was brewing. Figuring he had at least another minute or two, he hurried over and looked first into the cauldron, then at the notes laid out next to it. Apparently, Snape was trying to improve Veritaserum. A horrible thought came to him. Would he himself end up being the guinea pig? It would be just like Snape to make it part of his detention to try some vile potion for the first time. He had probably timed this detention just for the purpose. And Harry definitely had no wish to be questioned under an improved kind of Veritaserum! There were plenty of thoughts in his mind about Snape which, he was very sure, would get him into a yet unprecedented amount of trouble.

Then an idea came to him: If the potion didn’t work, it wouldn’t get him into trouble. It would be fitting if the thing which ruined it would be all about thoughts. He grinned.

It was the work of ten seconds to run across the room and fetch a handful of chopped heartsease and to come back and drop it into Snape’s cauldron. It even obligingly sank down at once.

* * *

When Snape returned, Harry was looking immensely busy, stirring his own potion while sprinkling in his diminished stash of chopped heartsease.

Snape gave him a suspicious look. Potter hard at work was always a worry. But he had no time to dwell on it. His remaining ingredients needed to get into his potion immediately.

It was a little more violet in colour than he had expected but, that aside, Snape deemed his new potion ready to be bottled after a short cooling period. He did it himself, naturally, not taking chances with Potter. He packed the vials into a small box and locked them inside his desk, keeping back just one vial of cooled potion, which he intended to try at once.

He looked over at Potter and, for one moment, contemplated making him drink it. The idea made him smirk but, alas, Dumbledore took a very dim view of potions being tested on students, and he would no doubt have a fit if Snape should do so on Potter. How to try it on his own, though? The test of Veritaserum was in the questioning. Did he dare with Potter still around? He decided that yes, there was no danger. Not only was Potter unaware what he was working on, he was also highly unlikely to ask him anything which might lead to... embarrassment.

While Potter was busy bottling his cough potion, Snape quickly drank his own creation. He grimaced a little at the taste, but recovered himself quickly.

"Can I go now, sir?" Potter asked, sounding as if he was in something of a hurry. Not unusual near the end of a detention.

"If you’re finished." Snape walked over to his desk. He inspected the corked vials and opened one to have a sniff. To his surprise, it smelled exactly as it should, though possibly not quite as strong. "This is rather good," he heard himself say, to his annoyance.

Potter blinked. "It is?"

"You might not have used quite enough heartsease." At this, Potter flushed, for some reason. "But the smell and colour are correct." Snape let a single drop fall on his fingertip and licked it off. "The taste is right as well." And then, to the shock of them both, he said, "Well done, Potter. I've always known you could do much better."

"You have, sir?" Potter was gaping at him. "Why have you never said?"

It was then that Snape decided he should have definitely tested the potion with someone else around. "Because you thrive on being challenged, and you’ll likely succeed at anything you try your hand at, if only there is stiff enough opposition." For Merlin’s sake, why would his mouth keep talking? And why was he even volunteering things which came into his mind?

Potter beamed at him. "I had no idea you thought that about me. Thank you, sir."

"You’re very welcome," Snape heard himself saying. "Now, off you go." Potter actually seemed reluctant to leave. Was he waiting for more compliments? If so, it was high time Snape took his leave. "I’m going to lock up the classroom now, so it would be best—"

"Sir, may I ask you something?"

Snape prayed the question would relate to tomorrow’s weather. "You should leave, Potter."

"Just one thing." Potter shuffled his feet while he got up the courage to ask whatever he was about to ask. "I’d like to volunteer for extra tutoring in Potions, sir. I know I need help to get a good grade in my NEWTs, but I never thought there was much point in asking before."

 _It really should have been about the weather._ Snape answered honestly, before he could think about it for a moment. "That would be my pleasure, Potter."

Potter looked ready to pass out, and Snape feared he might join him on the floor. No, he told himself, no, that was not a good thing to contemplate.

"I really need to go now, Potter. Close the door after you leave, won’t you?" And Snape all but fled from his own classroom.

Harry was left behind, dumbfounded. Had Snape just... run away from him? Never mind that, had Snape just agreed to tutor him _with pleasure_? He couldn’t believe it, he just couldn’t. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Snape wasn’t there to drop it. The man had run away. Why? What was it about Harry that was suddenly so terrifying? Especially considering Snape had just been... nice to him. He had the definite impression that Snape had not meant to say the things he’d said, but then why— Harry’s eyes lit up.

He went to Snape’s desk at the front of the classroom and inspected the work station. Snape had removed his potion vials, but one was left behind; it lay on its side, empty. He had taken it himself! A new form of Veritaserum, botched intentionally by Harry. The words from the page he had been reading earlier came back to him: _Pansies are for thoughts_.

There was no time to lose if he wanted to know what Snape really thought of him. The potion would wear off sooner or later, and Snape was unlikely to ever touch the stuff around Harry again. He ran from the classroom and headed to Snape’s quarters.

* * *

The knocking was insistent. It might be the headmaster, Snape thought, but Dumbledore would have simply let himself in by now; there was no such thing as a door closed to Dumbledore. It might be a member of his house, but they would have requested entrance vocally by now. One of the other teachers? The same applied. And it was highly unlikely at... he checked the mantelpiece clock... nearly midnight. There was really only one likely suspect, and who else, aside from Voldemort, would choose the worst possible time to call on him?

He went to the door and opened his mouth to say, _Go away, Potter, I’ve seen enough of you for one day._ What came out instead was, "Please go to bed, Potter. This is not a good time for you to be here."

"It’s the perfect time for me to be here," said the infuriating boy. Snape wrung his hands. "Sir, there’s something I have to tell you."

"We can’t talk now. Another time," Snape said. Why couldn’t the damn potion just let him send the boy on his way with due venom? He decided that first thing in the morning, or once Potter was no longer lurking outside his door – whichever came first – he would go and pour the blasted stuff down the drain.

"I know what kind of potion you took," Potter was saying. "And I... I tampered with it."

Snape tore the door open. "You did _what_?" He prepared to let loose a barrage of angry words but, of course, none made it past his lips. "Why?" was all he said.

Potter had looked triumphant the moment the door had been opened. Now he looked sheepish. Guilty. Adorably contrite.

Snape rubbed the centre of his forehead; he felt a headache coming on. It had been a monumentally bad idea to open the door, but it was too late.

Contrite or not, Potter simply walked in, talking all the while. "I looked at your notes, while you were gone. And I thought... I was worried you were going to make me take the potion and then ask me all sorts of embarrassing questions, so I decided to... I’m sorry, sir... to ruin the potion, so it wouldn’t work."

"It works," was all Snape could say, which was a singularly insufficient response to such an outrageous confession.

"I know. Strange, that." Potter was looking at him, from several feet inside his living quarters. He had a curious expression on his face.

It suddenly occurred to Snape that the prefects would be starting their rounds any moment, and it wouldn’t look good to be seen to have a student in his private quarters. He closed the door and walked towards Potter. "What did you do to it?" he asked.

"I just dropped in some heartsease."

Well. That settled, once and for all, a claim Snape had always considered something of an old wives’ tale. Why did Potter have to pick the heartsease, of all things, when he had been working with any number of perfectly harmless ingredients as well?

"Sir. You might think this a terrible, unfair thing for me to do, and I know you’ll give me a year’s worth of detentions once the potion wears off, but I’ll have to chance it." Potter took a step closer. "Do you really hate me?"

 _Go away, Potter, go away,_ Snape chanted in his own mind, hoping the sentiment would somehow make it into the spoken word. "No, I don’t." _So much for hope._

Potter beamed from ear to ear. "That’s good."

"Why would you care either way?" Snape asked, honestly curious.

It was at this point that Harry was especially relieved he was not under the influence of Veritaserum himself. He was able to stick with an un-incriminating, "Because I don’t hate you either."

Snape snorted. "You should." He walked past Harry to the fireplace, where he reached for his bottle of port on the little side table and poured himself a glass. Then he reconsidered; he wasn’t at all sure how the potion would react to alcohol. He almost laughed out loud. How it reacted to Potter was the only thing he should worry about! And he did. Without looking back at the boy, he said, "Potter, I must ask you to leave now. It’s essential. I won’t punish you for what you did." _Why not? He should be punished._

"There’s something else I need to ask you first, sir."

Snape spun around and found Potter immediately in front of him. The light from the fireplace cast a soft glow over his face, making the green eyes sparkle almost unnaturally. Snape bit his lips before he could say something entirely inappropriate.

"Sir..."

Focussing his eyes on the not even remotely attractive fire irons, Snape said, "Ask me tomorrow, whatever it is."

"I can’t do that, sir." Potter reached out and awkwardly touched Snape’s arm. The man stared at him. People didn’t just go about touching him. "You see, tomorrow, you’ll lie to me again. And I want to know the truth."

Snape forced himself not to say a word. He silently shook his head. But Potter wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing, and it came.

"What do you really think of me?"

Snape fell back into his armchair. "Potter, you are utterly infuriating." At this, Potter’s face fell. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. "You fail to live down to my worst expectations. You are nothing like your pest of a father. You are brave, loyal, and actually rather bright when you try. And, worst of all, you drive me to distraction with your eyes, you make me want to run my fingers through your crazy hair when you look up at me in class, and I can't look at your mouth without wanting to kiss you until you gasp for breath." It _was_ bad. It could hardly be worse.

Potter seemed to agree. He stumbled back onto Snape’s sofa as if someone had slapped him with a giant rubber cosh. He sat there for a few moments, looking utterly dazed. He stared at Snape with an indescribable expression. Any moment now, he would find his feet, get up, and run from Snape’s quarters and straight up to Dumbledore.

Eventually, he did stand. And he stepped forward. Forward?

"You swear, that’s the absolute truth?" he asked. His voice was shaking.

Snape sighed, learning forward and resting his head in his hands. He muttered, "We both know I have no option but to speak the truth."

Strong fingers gripped his wrists and drew his hands away, and he looked up and saw Potter kneeling in front of him. The boy was grinning as if Voldemort had just surrendered unconditionally and given him the Wizarding world on a platter into the bargain. Snape blinked.

"Thank Merlin for that," Potter said, with feeling, and he leaned in and pressed his lips to Snape’s.

It took a moment of complete confusion before Snape caught up. When he did, it was because the tempting lips tasted every bit as sweet as they looked, and because Potter was offering him the taste with such enthusiasm, it would have taken a stone gargoyle to resist.

Snape parted his legs, reached out, and drew Potter close, and Potter made a soft sound low in his chest and flung his arms around Snape’s neck. Snape didn’t merely taste his lips, he devoured them, and when that wasn’t enough anymore, he explored the warm, willing mouth with his tongue until Harry whimpered.

When breathing became an absolute necessity, Snape released Harry’s mouth in favour of his cheeks, his jaw, his throat, burying his fingers in the dark hair and tipping Harry’s head just so, always at the perfect angle for whichever part of his face and neck he wanted to taste.

"Sweet Merlin!" Harry gasped, pressing forward against his professor, scrambling for purchase in the thick black fabric of his robes.

"I warned you." Snape grasped Harry’s hips and pulled him up, and Harry scrambled to sit over his lap, and that turned out to be a fantastic idea.

"Thankfully, I didn’t listen." Harry rocked against him, moaned, and did it again.

Snape looked up at the rapturous expression on his face and, not letting go of Harry’s hips, snapped up his own hips to return the pressure. Encouraged by Harry’s near howl, he tugged at Harry’s jumper and moved both hands underneath it and the school shirt, sliding his palms from the damp lower back to the front of Harry’s trousers, which he undid swiftly and efficiently.

Harry stilled all movement and stared at him with misty eyes. "Please," he said roughly, trying to help with his hands on Snape’s. He ended up being more of a hindrance, so Snape swatted his hands away and drew his trousers open and down, and Harry rose on his knees just far enough to let Snape free his dripping cock. A warm, long-fingered hand closed around it, and Harry froze with his mouth open for a moment. A very long moment.

"Breathe," Snape instructed, amused.

Harry gulped in a breath, and when Snape began to work his cock, he arched back, both hands on Snape’s thighs behind himself. He looked down for a moment, his eyes widening impossibly, and then they met Snape’s and held, while Snape stroked him ever faster, faster, adding encouraging words and a steadying grip on Harry’s waist.

"Can’t hold on," Harry gasped out quite soon.

"Then don’t."

And Harry came with a full-body shudder, all over Snape’s hand and his own belly, thighs and shirt tails. He kept rocking until Snape slowly released his now limp cock, and then he kept staring at him in amazement. "Wow."

"Indeed."

Harry smiled. Then he looked down at Snape’s hand and blushed. His eyes widened when Snape raised his hand and touched it to his lips, and then to Harry’s. He flicked out his tongue experimentally, and when this elicited a low growl from Snape, he took the sticky hand in both of his and flicked his tongue over and between the fingers. 

"Potter... Harry." Snape’s voice sounded rough and laboured. He was less in control of himself than ever in his life, and Harry knew it. It gave him a rush of power and need.

Harry hummed against his hand. "I want to taste you, too," the minx said, sliding back off his thighs to kneel on the floor between Snape’s legs. His fingers scrambled to find a way underneath the robes and to the closure of Snape’s trousers and, eventually, he got help. Potter stared at the long, hard cock in front of him with a certain degree of awe, and that was also how he wrapped both hands around it. Then he dipped his head and flicked his tongue over the tip, and Snape sighed, sinking back in the chair and just watching how Harry would cope.

He didn’t expect technique, and he knew that just the sight of those rosy lips on him, and those awkward fingers beginning to stroke a little too carefully, would do the trick sooner or later.

But Harry seemed to like what he was doing, a lot. Soon, he was stroking harder, with more confidence, using just his right hand while letting the left roam freely over Snape’s belly and up under his shirt. He licked the tip for a while, but then he closed his whole mouth around it and sucked. Hard.

Groaning, Snape watched the lowered lids, the lashes fluttering as the boy concentrated on his task, and he had to hold back by tightening his own fingers around the base.

Now the bright green eyes looked up at him while Harry tried to take him deeper into his throat. He did quite well, and certainly didn’t lack in enthusiasm. Somehow, his inexpert mix of sucking and stroking, and his teasing gaze, brought Snape to the edge a lot sooner than they should have, for a man his age, and he placed a hand on Harry’s cheek and said, "Stop."

Harry shook his head slightly and sucked harder, his free hand moving down to play with Snape’s balls, the hand doing the stroking closing tightly.

"Harry!" With a groan, Snape came, watching the valiant attempt to swallow everything. It didn’t quite work out, and semen trickled from the corner of Harry’s mouth. It was an enchanting sight.

Snape watched Harry release him gently from his mouth to tuck him away securely with a smile on his lips. When the boy was done, Snape tipped up the square chin and leaned down. He kissed the stained lips, and continued to kiss and nip at them while Harry clambered back up on his lap, and when Harry laid his head on his shoulder with a sigh, he held him tight. 

"No wonder it’s called heartsease."

Snape smiled. "I agree."

Harry murmured, "You’re not going to be angry with me for being so insistent once the potion wears off? I know it wasn’t fair, but—"

"Harry." Snape stopped the rush of words, and Harry raised his head to meet his eyes. "There’s a superstition that if you are given heartsease by someone you love, you are bound to confess your feelings."

Harry smiled. "So sooner or later, you would have had to tell me?" Then the words suddenly sank in and he sat up ramrod straight, and Snape winced a little; he was still feeling rather... sensitive. "You love me?" Harry’s voice was higher than usual, and amazed. 

Snape combed his fingers through Harry’s hair. "I’m not in the habit of despoiling random students." 

Harry smiled. "Good. I’m not in the habit of easing the hearts of random professors." When Snape laughed at this, Harry said softly, "If I didn’t already love you too, I would just for that laugh." Pleased with the answering smile, he snuggled close again. "That’s why I was worried about you using the potion on me."

"I thought about it," Snape admitted.

"I knew it!"

And Snape laughed again. Yes, no wonder it was called heartsease.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [Livejournal](http://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3607760.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1559177.html), or [Dreamwidth](http://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/862440.html).


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